123
by FoxProphecy
Summary: 123


**Introduction**

Hello! Welcome to the first installment of Renekton's Creepy Fanfiction. I thought I'd provide a little introduction so you wouldn't look at this and go "WHAT WHAT THE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU CREEPY-ASS CROCODILE." I promise, it'll be short!

It all started on the League of Legends forums. I'd made a thread ( . ?t=440467) directing a series of incredibly important questions regarding the champions of the League to the Riot team. They, for whatever reason, didn't answer. So I threatened them, 'cause that's what I do, but what could I, a lowly crocodile do to such a large and powerful company?

Write slash fiction. That's what.

So I said I'd do it, and they still didn't answer. Of course, I was sorta joking...

But I did it anyway. It was surprisingly well-received by you weird, weird people.

So I kept going. It was the logical thing to do. Eventually though, it transitioned into a slightly-serious story that wasn't about a passionate romance between two male characters at all. Also I had a lot of time on my hands, so...

Right, anyway, that's the story. Let's proceed! Keep in mind that if you don't enjoy sweaty romances you can go ahead and skip to Chapter 5 and you'll still have a really good grasp of what's going on.

Okay, so:

 **Chapter 1**

As Garen raced down the stone corridor of the Institute of War's west wing, memories of his latest battle raced through his mind. Five cowards all huddling in their base, clinging to their towers like drowning men clinging to the wreckage of their ship. And all this time, Garen's inept teammates were unable to break the defense, whining about how magic resistance and armor is "overpowered." What did that even mean, overpowered? Worse yet, the cowards' three attempts at begging for their lives had failed, two summoners stupidly thinking they still had a chance. What chance had they? Garen was fed.  
Unwise, considering his prior engagement.  
He had promised someone dinner tonight, someone he was now racing to meet in the eastern hall. A meeting he was going be ten minutes late for.  
Idiots!  
And what was Garen to say? Demacians don't make excuses. Garen's typical response would be a dismissive "suck it up, scrub."  
But he couldn't say it.  
Not this time.  
Not to them...

Garen stumbled into the western chamber, still struggling to think of what he could say to make this better. A war of swords is one thing. Garen was a champion of battle, a master of armed conflict. But words? Words were different. A single word, spoken without care, could do the damage of a thousand swords.  
He could apologize. Would that be a sign of weakness?  
They didn't like weakness.

As he finally wrested himself free of his inner conflict, he surveyed the chamber for signs of his rendezvous.  
The chamber was empty.  
Garen's heart sank in his chest. He cursed himself inwardly, cursed his teammates, cursed those wretched fools that turtled the whole game and refused to just give up. Now he was late, and...  
A sound behind Garen made him turn, his hand unconsciously falling to the hilt of his sword.  
There, against the wall, stood none other than the master of metal himself, Mordekaiser. A towering colossus of steel and shadow, his burning red eyes bore down on Garen with all of the intensity of a pair of suns. He approached the Demacian slowly, deliberately, his enormous mace resting comfortably on his tremendous shoulder, his heavy footsteps echoing across the room.  
Then he stopped, swinging his mace off his shoulder and into the floor, shattering the stonework and creating a decently-sized crater in the floor. Garen did not flinch.  
Mordekaiser spoke, his voice like thunder from within his cruel helmet.  
"You're late."  
Garen was silent, returning his stare. What was he to say? All of his planned responses now seemed inadequate in the face of such a man...

Their silence persisted for several eternal seconds. Garen was cursing himself inside. He should have dropped out and taken the leave, citing cowardice from both teams. But he didn't. He should have-  
"As I expected." said Mordekaiser, finally. "You offer no excuse, no apology. Your 'Demacian code' requires that you remain steadfast and firm on all occasions. Does it protect you when you thrust forward into the fray? You don't bend in the slightest, even if it means hurting someone you care for."  
Garen remained silent.  
"Perhaps that is what I find so attractive about you..." mused the Master of Metal.  
Garen was surprised. It didn't show.  
"There's little I find more appealing than rigidity and inflexibility, even in the most intense heat. Like metal."  
Garen imagined Heimerdinger would have something to say about that. He would later gank the mutant yordle for his imagined transgression.  
"I should have expected this," continued Mordekaiser, "To be reminded that you are the one in charge here..."  
Garen's stare didn't falter. Somehow, silence was working. He didn't want to screw this up again.  
"Tonight," said Mordekaiser with a deep chuckle, "It seems my soul will be your slave, instead..."  
With that, they embraced, and Garen led his companion towards his chambers...

Chapter 2

Garen opened the heavy oak door that led to his chamber. The doorway itself was large enough for Garen to pass easily, but Mordekaiser still had to duck to clear the top. Morde lifted his enormous mace off his shoulder and set it down against a wall, then walked to the far end of the room where a fire was burning in the fireplace. Garen followed, taking his place next to Mordekaiser and looping an arm around his waist.  
"I like your room. It reminds me of home." said Mordekaiser.  
Garen wasn't certain whether that was a compliment or not.  
"...Thanks." He replied.  
"It's too modest for one of your stature, though. You should really have a fountain of blood..."  
"I'll take it into consideration. I'm not usually a 'blood' person, but..." Garen looked over his shoulder, noticing his armoire was open. From inside he could see the fire glinting off his dreadknight costume. "Ah, you know? I'll have one put in tomorrow."  
Mordekaiser took a deep breath. He was clearly nervous. Garen couldn't help but smile. It was cute. And... slightly arousing. Garen released his embrace as Morde turned to walk to the center of the room.  
"Is it alright if... I leave my helmet on?"  
Garen nodded. Whatever floats your ironclad, he supposed.  
Mordekaiser began to remove his armor. Gloves first, then shoulderpads. Garen watched with interest. He'd always sort of wondered what sort of a man lay under all of that plating. As Mordekaiser's chestpiece came off, he had his answer: A god****ed hot one. Mordekaiser was built... or perhaps tempered? Cast? Garen wondered why he needed the armor when he already had abs of steel.  
Morde noticed Garen staring, and modeled himself bashfully. "Do you like what you see?"  
Garen grinned, "Yes, I do." he stepped forward and they embraced while Garen began working on removing Morde's leggings. Morde leaned in and their lips met passionately. The sharp metal points of Morde's helmet poked into Garen's face, but Garen pretended not to notice. After some time of fumbling with all of the god****ed buckles on Mordekaiser's leggings- seriously, who the **** needs this many buckles?- they came off. Garen brought Morde to his knees, stripping off his own pants, and immediately took Morde's bottom lane.  
With a decisive thrust he silenced any thought Mordekaiser had that he would not enjoy himself.  
"Fear not," said Garen after a hard push, "I'm coming."  
Mordekaiser was impressed with Garen's skill. He was so easily capable of keeping the pressure on without overextending...  
As Garen's minion wave flooded past Mordekaiser's inhibitor, he loosed a thunderous cry of "DEMACIAAAAA!"  
With that, they both collapsed onto the floor.  
"That was amazing." said Mordekaiser.  
"I know." replied Garen.

The next morning Garen awoke to a rapping on his door. He slipped out of bed as not to wake Mordekaiser, crept to the door, and asked who it was.  
"It's Xin. You need to wake up man, we've got a match in like, ten minutes."  
"What? ...Who else is coming?"  
"Uhh, one of the summoners hasn't chosen yet, but I already know it's you, me, Teemo and Mordekaiser."  
Garen sighed. So much melee. He was, however, happy to hear of the fourth choice. As he looked back at the sleeping master of metal, he smiled. Perhaps they could lane together this round...

Chapter 3

As the five fighters stepped out onto the field of Summoner's Rift, it looked like this would be a game like any other. Their fifth summoner had finally settled on Anivia, having cited a "really pro guide" as the inspiration for his choice. This worried their team slightly, and Anivia herself looked the most disconsolate of them all. Yes, a game like any other.  
"Who are we up against?" asked Teemo. "I wasn't paying attention."  
Xin rattled off the names of the enemy champions like he was reading an inventory list. Urgot. Soraka. Corki. Tristana. Ashe.  
****, thought Garen.  
"My one consolation this round will be that their Soraka is trying to jungle."  
"Heh. Stupid *****." Xin said, grinning. "Alright, where's everyone going?"  
Garen claimed the top lane just as Mordekaiser claimed bottom. Morde then quickly redacted his answer and moved to stand next to Garen. Xin raised an eyebrow.  
"We're testing a new strategy, Xin." Garen said. "Don't worry about it."  
"Right, whatever. Teemo, you're center."  
Anivia sighed, "My summoner is screaming that I need to go center. Teemo, do you mind? Teemo?"  
The four looked around. Teemo was nowhere to be seen. Xin swung his foot at a gap in their formation, and the little yordle fell out of the air.  
"S-sorry!" he said, scrambling to his feet.  
"You heard the plan, right?"  
Teemo nodded. Everyone already knew he was lying.

The announcer welcomed the fighters to Summoner's Rift, and Garen offered to go top and see who they would be fighting. Mordekaiser followed him, and within seconds they were in position. Garen eyed a patch of brush near their tower.  
"Hey, Morde." he said, gesturing.  
Mordekaiser looked towards the bush, "You're serious? Now?"  
"**** right, we have plenty of time until the match starts."  
"If I must." Morde joked, and the two entered the shrub together. As soon as they were out of sight, the two began to remove their leggings. The thrill of what they were doing gave Garen a powerful adrenaline surge, and he practically forced Morde into the dirt.

A few minutes after they'd begun, Garen heard a rustling in the bush behind him. He spun around, startled. There, standing completely paralyzed, was Teemo.  
"Teemo." Garen said, calmly.  
Morde turned his head to see.  
"What have I told you about facechecking bushes?"  
The yordle had vanished, but Garen knew he was still utterly transfixed.  
"Morde here didn't learn his lesson, either."  
Teemo emitted a tiny yelp of terror and bolted from the bush, hopefully headed towards center lane. This would be good for him, Garen thought.  
"Minions have spawned!" called the announcer.  
Me too, Garen thought as he strode out of the bush with Morde in tow. He looked out past his tower and saw Corki idling impatiently, waiting for the minions to arrive.  
"Oh, there ya'll were! I was gettin' concerned." yelled Corki. "...What were ya doin' in that bush, anyhow?"  
"****in'." Garen called.  
Corki guffawed, "That's wh-" his expression changed from bemusement to confusion as he realized Garen might not have been kidding. "I ah... uhm."  
"Your turn. DEMACIAAAA!" Garen howled as he charged past his tower straight at the pilot. Corki panicked, unloading his chaingun toward the Demacian, then turning around and spraying bullets at his own minion wave.  
"Taaarnation!" Corki yelled. As Corki flew past his own tower, Garen called off his assault, stopping long enough for the ponderously-paced Mordekaiser to catch up to him.  
Garen smirked. What sort of ****** takes chaingun first? This would be easy.  
Mordekaiser leaned forward, fighting to catch his breath.  
"Don't... run so... fast." he said between labored breaths.  
"Maybe you should start with boots, Morde." Garen suggested. Morde nodded in response.  
The minions stormed past their respective towers and met in the middle for their grand melee. Garen waded through the battle like an instructor watching over practicing students. His sword would occasionally dive into the sea of purple and blue to end their lessons and take his payment.  
Corki had finally returned, and Garen heard the voice of his summoner on the wind.  
Kill Corki.  
Garen looked at Mordekaiser. His summoner also wanted blood. They shared a silent nod and dove on the unsuspecting pilot. Garen's blade tore a great gap in the side of the fuselage, causing a spray of oil to burst from a ruptured pipe. Mordekaiser's enormous mace met the front of Corki's vehicle with a thunderous crash. Suddenly, Corki and his vehicle erupted in a surge of green light, and their work was undone.  
"You have heal?" Garen said, exasperated.  
"I... I don't wanna talk about it!" said Corki as he tugged hard on a lever in the cockpit and attempted to flee. Seeing this, Mordekaiser swung his mace with devastating force and obliterated a number of tiny minions who had suddenly come between he and his target. Corki's chopper also suffered a grievous hit from the shockwave, but it was too little, too late. Corki parked near his tower and was suddenly surrounded by coruscating blue circles. He was resting his head on one arm, and wore an expression that told Garen he was considering flying out of the arena and going home.

Now that Garen and Morde were free of Corki, the two began their grisly work of harvesting the little minions who stood between them and the tower. In seconds, the minions were destroyed, and Garen began hacking away at the solid stone of the tower as it frantically tried to destroy the enormous minion wave, one target at a time. Suddenly, he felt a slicing pain in his back, and he turned to see Soraka. She was orbited by four red squares, and Garen felt his injury burning into his back. He started towards her, and so did Mordekaiser. She ran.  
"How did she manage to get red buff?" Garen asked, or more accurately, shouted.  
Mordekaiser shrugged, an enormous shrug that was almost comical to behold.  
"Get back here, goat*****!"  
Soraka stopped and turned, "What did you just call-" she was cut short when garen leaped on her and began to slam his fists hard into her face.  
"This! Is! For! Every! Time! I've! Died! To! Warwick!" Garen punctuated every blow. He felt Mordekaiser's hand gently fall on his shoulder.  
"Garen. She's dead."  
Garen looked back at the fallen Starchild and confirmed that she was, in fact, very dead.  
"First blood!" the announcer shouted in jubilation.  
"Real difficult, Garen. Good job." Garen heard Xin shout sarcastically from across the map.  
Garen stood. The Demacian code demanded that warriors take no satisfaction in beating on those weaker than they, but Garen didn't have to tell anyone. He hated everyone on that team.

Garen had resumed pounding away at the tower when he heard it.  
"Your turret has been destroyed."  
"What in the god**** ****ing-?" Garen started, when he heard Xin howling his rage to the heavens.  
"WHAT THE ****, TEEMO?!"  
"You boys got some good defense, there!" yelled Urgot. "Or... ya did. Heh."  
The next thing Garen knew, he was racing down the river, furious footsteps crashing into the water with the force of sledgehammers. He wasn't sure who to kill first, Urgot or Teemo. He managed to collect himself enough to take cover in the bushes rather than charge into the center lane and tear off Urgot's flesh with his teeth. An unattractive prospect, normally, but Garen was pissed. He looked down the lane, past his ruined tower, to see Teemo frantically trying to clean up the minions who were now working on destroying the second one.  
He looked up the lane and saw another wave of minions incoming, but no Urgot. He heard a noise behind him, spun, and ducked just in time to avoid a bladed missile hitting him in the face.  
"Teemo!" Garen yelled, "Call god**** MIAs!"  
Teemo took his lips from his blowgun just long enough to respond in ragged breaths, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he looked to be on the verge of tears, and Garen for an instant felt a pang of sympathy for the little scrub. As his eyes fell on the ruins of his tower, though, his rage was reignited. He turned to face his attacker, and there, on the ledge, was Urgot. He was wearing what appeared to be a southern Baptist's attire, and had a long piece of straw clenched between his malformed teeth.  
"What the hell are you wearing, fatass?"  
"'S called a costum'. Had it all along, jess never had occasion ta wear it." he replied. He used his pincered arm to take the straw from his mouth. "That was a right fancy dodge, city boy. See if you can do it agin'."  
With that, he pointed his arm towards Garen and let fly with another missile. Garen dodged, but barely. It sliced through the plating on his leg as it flew past him, and Garen felt a sharp sting and the rush of warm blood. Urgot grinned stupidly. Another missile was sent flying, and the injured Garen found this one more difficult to avoid. It slammed hard into his right arm and Garen dropped his sword, gasping in pain. He wrapped his gauntlet-clad hand around the wound to staunch the flow of blood and looked up at  
Urgot chuckled and leveled another missile at Garen's chest. This one would not miss. Garen uttered a swear and tried to rise, when a spear came crashing down onto Urgot's shoulder. Urgot wailed in pain and sent the missile flying towards the heavens, then turned. Xin had arrived, and was about to bring the pain. He swung his spear artfully, disabling Urgot's other arm, then sending the blade across his face, tearing open a sickening gash that flowed with blackened ichor. The third swing came from below, and launched the half-man flying. He landed with a sickening crunch, managing somehow to appear an even more grotesque pile of metal and flesh then he appeared when he was right-side-up. As Urgot attempted to scramble to his mechanical feet, he called out to his allies  
"Would one of ya'll mind a-HELPIN' ME?"  
An explosion in the distance. Over a cluster of trees flew Tristana, enormous weapon firing explosive rounds with wild inaccuracy. Still, the assault forced Xin to withdraw and allowed Urgot to scramble to safety. Before he vanished into the bushes, he turned to the Demacians.  
"Ya'll ain't see the last a me... You can count on that."  
Garen rose, grabbing his sword. His wounds had already healed. He wasn't sure why they began to heal so rapidly exactly seven seconds after he stopped fighting, but he wasn't about to complain. He dove at Tristana, carving through her stupid wooden gun with ease. Xin had rejoined the assault, stabbing into the Megling Gunner twice before launching her into the sky. Garen reeled his sword back and swung, tearing through her like a murderous baseball player. As her lifeless body ended its flight by slamming into a tree, the two Demacian champions shared a wicked high five.  
"Pro status!" they shouted in unison.  
From behind them, Garen heard the easily-recognizable sound of Mordekaiser's heavy boots sloshing through the river. He thought about his encounter with Urgot suddenly, and he felt a flare of anger deep within him.  
"Where the hell were you, Morde?"  
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to wade through a river wearing this?" he said, slamming an iron hand against his armor.  
"I thought I told you to buy some god****ed boots?"  
"Don't yell at me, Garen." Morde said. "I didn't have time to go back to the store."  
"You didn't have time because you didn't have any ****ing boots! Buy them first next time!"  
Morde scowled at Garen, and he could tell he was hurt.  
"I'm going back top." he said, balling his fists. "I don't care if you join me."  
Xin watched Morde leave, and tabbed the back of his hand against Garen's arm.  
"Are you feeling alright? You know Morde doesn't move that fast."  
Garen swore, "No, I'm not ****ing feeling alright. You know what? I'm taking center now. DO YOU HEAR ME? I'M TAKING ****ING CENTER!"  
From far off, he head Teemo sputter an apology, which only made him angrier.  
Xin regarded Garen strangely for a moment, "Uh... Yeah, okay. I'll be south. Try to calm d-" Xin stopped as he caught Garen's glare, put his hands up, and left to help Anivia.

Chapter 4

The newly-resurrected Tristana waddled carefully down center lane, carrying her hastily-bandaged gun with her. She'd still not recovered fully from her brief career as a yordle baseball, and as she stumbled down the miles-long pathway towards center tower, images of sharp objects flying from the trees to impale her raced through her mind. She saw swords, halberds, spears, axes, all manner of stabby things designed for carving up tiny blue things, and as she sighted the front tower she broke into a cold sweat. There was Garen, his savage greatsword cleaving great chunks of stone from the tower as it shot stupidly at the harmless minions around it. Tristana realized that Garen was actually carving blasphemous insults against the yordle gods into the tower itself, where they would remain until he demolished the entire structure. She looked at him. He turned his head slowly and saw her. His face was a rictus of horror, blood dripping from his eyes and mouth. He lifted a gauntleted hand to point at her and howled his murderous intent.

She ran. She ran faster than she'd ever run in her life.

Meanwhile, at the bottom lane, Xin and Anivia were preparing for their own tower push. The last minion had just fallen to a barrage of steel and ice when Anivia landed suddenly and looked at Xin.  
"I'm worried about Garen." she said.  
"I'm not." Xin replied curtly. "Are we going to do this or what?" He thrust his chin towards the enemy tower as he picked a bloodied piece of cloth off the head of his spear.  
"Yes you are. You two are like brothers. He seems very upset about something. After this match, I want you to talk to him."  
"Hey, you don't give me orders, Articuno. As soon as this game is over I'm going to go up there and kick his ass. He's acting like that ****ing mummy."  
Anivia sighed. Whenever Garen was in a bad mood, so was Xin. She wouldn't hold it against him, although that Articuno comment would later earn him a ice wall placed in front of his chamber door.  
As their pair joined a rapidly-dying minion wave in their assault on the tower, they were set upon by Corki and Ashe, firing alternating volleys of fire and ice. When the last of the minions were about to fall, Xin and Anivia began to fall back, only to be greeted by Father Urgot walking out of the bushes behind them.  
"**** it!" Xin spat, "I should have seen that coming."  
"Awful impolite of ya'll ta not invite me to this here party. Now, before I send ya'll off ta meet your maker, d'ya have any last words?" He leveled his launcher towards Xin.  
"'Niv, I could use a little help here! ...'Niv?"  
Xin turned when he heard no response. Behind him was a scene of terrible carnage. Blood, sinew, shards of ice, and... helicopter parts? Anivia looked up at Xin from the body of Ashe, which she was in the process of disemboweling, "Yes?" she asked casually.  
Urgot pulled his wide-brimmed hat down over his face to spare himself the shame, and silently walked back into the brush.  
"Nevermind." said Xin. "Let's proceed."

By the time Xin and Anivia reached the southern inhibitor, they found much of the enemy base in ruins. Garen had carved a swath of destruction clearly into the stonework that, when read from high above, spelled out all manner of outrageous claims regarding Urgot's parenthood. Xin noticed the nexus was exposed, but didn't see anyone attacking it. Then he heard a voice from somewhere beyond. A furious voice, the voice of hatred. He approached the nexus and peeked around the corner to find Garen shrieking threats at the cowering foursome in the spawning pool, barely held back by the threat of the supertower burning him into ashes. Urgot, however, was oddly absent. Xin turned and noticed the northern section of the base was untouched. He turned back to the raging Garen and stepped out from the cover of the building to get his attention.  
"Garen..." Xin started.  
Garen's head whipped around to look at him, his eyes bloodshot, his neck at an angle that would kill a normal man.  
"**** YOU." He wailed. "END THIS MATCH."  
Xin grimaced, but he was not about to argue with... whoever this was. He brought his spear around and began to assault the nexus just as Anivia came to help. In seconds it had crumbled, and Garen howled something that was either a cheer of jubilation or a cry of rage that he wouldn't have anyone to murder until the next match. Before Xin could figure it out, however, the announcer cried "Victory!" and Garen stalked off to return to the commencement hall. As Xin stood in the ruins of the enemy base to give Garen a good head start, he heard footsteps approaching behind him. It was Ashe.  
"Xin... What's wrong with Garen?"  
Xin shrugged, "Who cares?"  
"Xin." said Anivia as she fluttered down to land by the pair, "Don't be short with her." She turned to regard the Frost Archer, "Ashe, dear, I'm so sorry about earlier." Ashe rubbed her stomach, but smiled at the Cryophoenix, "It's alright, it's just a game. Honestly, when you've been in the league for so long, being torn apart by a giant bird actually doesn't hurt so much anymore."  
Anivia laughed, "Oh, tell me about it. I've been killed so many times now- and you know I die twice almost every time- that..."  
Xin decided to leave and spare himself the hours of "girl talk" that followed every match. It was their way of keeping civil, he guessed, but holy **** if it wasn't the most inane **** to listen to. Who killed whom, how they killed each other, their favorite ways to murder people, what the **** is it with women these days? ****.

Xin decided to find Mordekaiser before he left so he'd at least have someone to talk to one the long walk back to the hall. He took the route past the unharmed northern tower. As he passed the first tower, he heard a sound coming from the bushes. It was an unusual sound, similar to the sound an eight-foot-tall man in a suit of heavy metal armor makes when he's weeping quietly after being shouted at by the man he loved. Xin had no idea what it could be, and so he peeked into the bush. There, sitting against the rock lane wall, was an eight-foot-tall man in a suit of heavy metal armor weeping quietly after being shouted at by the man he loved.  
Xin cleared his throat, and Morde jumped.  
"Oh... Xin. I thought it was-"  
"Garen? He left already."  
When Xin saw Morde's expression fall (at least, he could see it in his eyes) he added, "Uhm, to try and find you! See, we didn't know where you were, and he was worried sick, so-"  
Morde sniffled, "Xin, it's sweet of you to lie like that to cheer me up, but I know he's gone." Mordekaiser moved to stand. "Something's wrong with him, Xin! He's not my Garen anymore."  
Xin shrugged, "Look, he's probably just having a bad day. He'll come around, and his Demacian code will force him to buy you an expensive gift and carve himself up with his own sword in penance." He was lying, as the Demacian code explicitly said that any Demacian whose lover was crying for any reason should beat said lover until they stopped, because Demacians do not cry and they certainly don't date criers. Xin wasn't going to tell him that.

As they returned to the hall, Morde regaled Xin with stories of "the old Garen," a thoughtful Adonis who wouldn't hurt a fly, unless that fly was a big Noxian ******, in which case that ***** had it coming. They would meet for candlelit dinners and take romantic boatrides up and down the river in Summoner's Rift, sometimes in the middle of matches if Garen felt like being a troll. And above all, he would never, ever raise his voice, except during matches, and only when he was using Judgment, and he would never use Judgment if they were on apposing teams, they would cuddle instead. Xin began to grow nauseous, and was thankful when they finally reached the hall. He said his goodbyes and headed towards his chambers, because it was a long day and Xin Zhao did not give a single **** right now. It was time for some Super Smash Brothers.

Footsteps echoed down a long stone hallway as Warwick strode purposefully towards the league mess hall. As he walked his claws left little nicks in the floor, his way of warning others that this was his territory as the league discouraged urinating on the walls and no matter how many janitors he mauled, they would continue to undo his work. Warwick grinned. Normally, dwelling on the actions of league servicemen was a one-way ticket to rageville, but today he was in a very good mood. He couldn't be angry today.

It was taco day.

Every day, league chefs would dedicate the lunch menu to cuisine from one of Runeterra's varied countries. Today was Friday, which meant all of their recipes came from south of the Demacian border.

Warwick loved taco day.

He scented the air. There it was! The scent of ground beef! He could give a **** about the lettuce or the cheese. The beef was the only reason to eat them. He enjoyed his tacos with a soft shell and liked to pretend that the tortilla was the soft flesh of a beautiful, unarmed woman as his fangs carved through it to get to the juicy treasure within. Just thinking about it gave him a tingle of sexual excitement. If only tacos could scream and beg for their lives...

He took another sniff of the air. It was stronger now, but... Now there was a new smell. A chemical smell. As an avid chemist before his change, Warwick recognized the scent instantly. But it couldn't be. He sniffed again. It couldn't be, but it was. And it was close. He stopped and tried to find the source. It led him to a pair of doors on the side of the hall. Bathrooms. The male bathroom, specifically. He grunted. There was nothing worse than a men's bathroom. It smelled like competition. He silently pushed the door open and became aware of a voice from within one of the stalls. It was a soft mumble, but Warwick's excellent hearing could pick up a few of the words.  
"Yeah... that's it... that's it... god tier..."  
Warwick crept forward with all the grace of a giant slobbering ninja and poked his head over the door of the stall, and what he saw he could not believe.

It was Garen. He had his eyes closed, and a syringe in his arm loaded with the very cocktail that Warwick had suspected.

Buffs.

Garen was illegally applying buffs to himself.

The potent sting of the chemical scent had finally irritated Warwick's nose to its threshold. He sneezed.

Garen shot up right, locking his bloodshot eyes on the intruder.  
"YOU ****ING DOG!" he howled, "GET THE **** OUT OF HERE!"  
Warwick grinned, "Well, this explains those anger issues everyone's talking ab-"  
Warwick was interrupted when Garen slammed his boot into the stall door, knocking it off its hinges and sending Warwick into the bathroom's far wall. He slid to the floor in a daze, then shook his head and was in the process of scrambling to his feet when Garen pinned him to the wall.  
"You've just earned a trip to the Bandle City Coat Factory you f-"  
It was Warwick's turn to interrupt this time, and he did so with a savage, clawed swipe to Garen's face. Garen stumbled backwards, eyes shut, clutching a hand to his wound and groping blindly for Warwick. Warwick found that his back had stopped hurting, and his hunger had been slightly abated. He hoped he'd have enough room for tacos after devouring the Might of Demacia. He lunged, knocking the blinded champion onto his back, grabbed his shoulders, and lurched forward to bite open Garen's throat. Garen responded by grabbing Warwick's jaws in each hand and forcing his mouth open painfully. Warwicked yelped and whimpered, then remembered that he too had hands and brought them up to wrestle with Garen's. Garen threw the heavy wolf creature off him and stood up, then swung hard. His fist connected with the side of Warwick's face, and Warwick staggered backwards, dazed. Garen swung again, and Warwick took it on the shoulder. The two continued to trade blows evenly, but Warwick knew this fight couldn't go on. The buffs in Garen's system were beginning to take effect, and if he didn't end this soon he was going to find himself overpowered. Fortunately for his pride, he wouldn't have to run, as Garen seemed to be pulling away. As Garen scrambled for the door, Warwick gave a halfhearted chase. He pulled the door open and swung it closed behind him to stymie Warwick's pursuit, and Warwick tugged it open just in time to watch Garen sprint down the hallway at an incredible speed. Warwick could smell his blood, and managed to suppress a reflexive howl. He could tell Garen was headed for the door to the outside world. That was fine.  
"You're lucky it's taco day!" he called after the Demacian. There was no response.

Warwick rubbed an aching arm as he slowly shoved open the door to the mess hall. It was crowded, now. He was usually early for taco day, but that interruption had cost him a lot of time since he decided to visit Garen's chambers and piss on his bed. Nobody punches Warwick. As he entered, several heads turned to watch him. He certainly looked worse for wear, and didn't realize how hard Garen had been swinging until the bruises had a chance to settle in. As he passed one of the tables, he heard Miss Fortune cackle and mimic his trademarked howl with a mouthful of taco. The champions seated next to her laughed. He silenced them with a glower and went to find a tray.

"Worth the wait," Warwick mumbled into a tortilla full of beef. He was halfway through his delicious taco feast when he felt a presence take a seat next to him. He didn't have to look up to know who it was. He knew that perfume, how it mingled with the scent of gunpowder that always surrounded her.  
"Go away." he growled.  
"Warwick, dear," said Caitlyn, "Are you alright?"  
"What do you want?" he said, lapping up the last traces of juice on the tortilla.  
"I heard you had a run-in with Garen."  
Warwick snorted, "Who told you that?"  
"I don't reveal my sources," he said, smiling.  
Warwick lifted his head from the empty tortilla and sniffed. There was the perfume, the gunpowder, the smell of her hair and her clothing, her sweat... Of paper and ink... But wait, there was the alien smell he was looking for. The smell of fur and walnuts, the unmistakable tinge of junta poison.  
"Teemo." he grunted. He'd picked up that scent outside of the bathrooms but thought he was imagining it. The little ****er must have been standing there the whole time.  
If Caitlyn was surprised by Warwick's olfactory detective skills, it didn't show. "I need to know where Garen went."  
"I haven't seen him." Warwick replied, shoving another taco into his ever-hungry maw.  
"I know that's not true, Warwick."  
Warwick ignored Caitlyn and began eating the rest of his food. She didn't budge. Warwick found her patience maddening. When he was finally finished eating, he felt her lean onto his shoulder. He growled a warning, his hackles beginning to rise.  
"Tell me," she said, "Where Garen went. Do this for me, and there might be something in it for you..."  
Warwick quieted, thought for a moment, and finally agreed. "Bring me another taco and I'll tell you what I saw."

Warwick couldn't believe that had worked. The old "request-a-taco-and-then-ditch-while-the-moron's-away" trick. He grinned to himself as he walked down the hallway leading from the mess hall. How stupid could she be? Sure he was missing out of a free taco, but...  
He stopped. A new scent had caught his nose, and he looked down. Lying on the floor off to one side was a single white cupcake with a bright red cherry nestled on top of the icing. Warwick scoffed. Really, *****? The cupcake trick? Warwick felt almost insulted by the simplicity of Caitlyn's traps. He continued down the hall, giving the obvious trap a wide berth when he felt two pieces of cold steel snap closed around his leg. He barely had time to yelp when a figure leapt from the shadows onto his back and covered his mouth and nose with a cloth. At once Warwick smelled an overpoweringly familiar substance on the cloth, but he couldn't recall the scent.  
 _Oh come on_ , he thought. _You were a master chemist before this wolf business._  
Indeed, this was a chemical he'd incorporated hundreds of times into his own concoctions. Now what was it called...? Oh! Chloroform! Of cour

Warwick awoke in a daze, in unfamiliar territory. He shook his head, and soon realized that he was lying spread-eagle on a flat surface raised off the floor. He turned his head. Wood. It was a table. He made a motion to rise but found his arms bound tightly to the corners. He gave his legs a tug and discovered they were in a similar state. He growled. When he got out of here, he was going to wrap that sniper ***** in ham and eat her alive. He heard footsteps approaching the head of the table from out of sight, and once again Caitlyn's gunpowdery perfume scent met his nose.  
He snarled, "This is going to be the worst mistake of your life, *****."  
Caitlyn sighed, "I gave you the chance to help me. Now we have to do things the hard way."  
"Do your worst," he said, grinning, "I'm going to remember every single thing you do here."  
"My worst?" she said, sounding intrigued, "I don't need my worst to break you."  
Warwick felt her place her hands behind his ears... And she began scratching. He thrashed wildly about on the table, snarling. The sensation, Warwick found, was... so _good_. He continued to struggle, pretending he wasn't enjoying her attention. After a solid minute, she stopped. Warwick ceased his thrashing and layed limp on the table.  
"Now," she began, leaning in so that her lips were an inch from Warwick's ear and bringing her voice down to just over a whisper, "Tell me what I want to know..."  
 _Not a chance_ , Warwick thought, anticipating another session.  
"...Or I'm not going to do that again."  
His eyes widened slightly.  
"I know you enjoyed that, Warwick. It's nothing to be ashamed about." She slid one fingernail along the base of his ear. Warwick leaned his head into he sensation.  
"**** you." he said, quickly regretting it. What if she stopped?  
"Sweeten the deal?" She asked, "Alright. Tell me what Garen was doing and I'll scratch your belly."

Warwick sat at the foot of a tall oak tree outside the massive league hall, feeling slightly humiliated, partially aroused, and completely satisfied. He'd told her everything, and as her nails graced his tender, fuzzy stomach he only wished he had more to give. That woman knew how to treat a dog. He was still going to kill Garen when he was him next, but he'd try to make it as painless as possible. He was in a very good mood.

Morning came, as it often did. The sun had barely crested the horizon when Xin Zhao awoke to begin his morning exercise regiment. It wasn't easy to swing a spear with enough force to knock a grown man twenty feet into the air, so every bit of muscle helped.

When Xin was finished, the sun was well into the sky. He caught a quick shower, and suited up for the day. A dull ache in the pit of his stomach told him it was time for breakfast. He stepped to his door, undid the lock, and gave it a hearty push.

It didn't move.

He pushed again, harder. The wooden door seemed oddly inflexible today. Xin took a few steps back, leaned forward, then sprinted into the door and shoulder-checked it with all the force he could muster. The door flew open with a thunderous crack, and Xin was hit by a sensation of bitter cold as shards of ice rained down upon him. The amount of force he had put into the impact was enough to carry him well into the hallway outside, and he turned to find that someone had sealed his doorway closed with a gigantic chunk of ice, shaped expertly into a heart.  
He smiled faintly, knowing full well this was his reward for his "Articuno" comment. The heart shape was a nice touch.  
A spot of red caught his eye. Next to his doorway was a moderate pile of red paper bags. He picked one up and removed a handful of pink and white tissue paper from within, revealing a small box of candy. A perfumed note was left inside which said simply, "Happy Valentine's Day." It was signed by Evelynn, who added in a post-script, "I've got the touch "  
His smile widened. It was Valentine's Day, wasn't it?  
He stuffed the tissue paper back in the bag, placed it in his room, then tugged a card from another bag. The card read, "True love cannot be defeated" and was credited to Irelia. He replaced the card and looked down at the other bags. One would be from Akali, one from Miss Fortune, another from Caitlyn. Two would be from Morgana, who spent every Valentine's making chocolates to give to people, and one would be from Kayle simply to spite her sister. The last was probably from Mundo again.  
Xin wasn't entirely sure why Mundo sent him a valentine's basket every year, but Mundo isn't the sort of person you refuse gifts from. Mundo gifts who he pleases.

Xin carefully slid the piles of chocolates into his room with one foot, and closed the door securely. There was no time for chocolates, breakfast calls.  
"To the cafeteria!" Xin said to himself as he started down the hallway.

The cafeteria was bustling that morning, and for one good reason: Morgana was cooking, and Morgana was a god-tier chef. The line to the serving area was enormous, and as Xin entered he could already hear the roar of the oven, the hiss of what had to be pancake batter hitting a hot stove, and the clatter of plates.  
"Do not dally!" Morgana called over the din of the diners, addressing the serving line. Xin joined the line, and after far too long a wait, he made it to the front. Morgana was hard at work loading a fresh-batch of heart-shaped pancakes from the stove. She had on her "Sinful Succulence" outfit, the one she wore any time there was food to be made. She lit up when she saw Xin.  
"Xin! Baby! So glad you could make it. Did you get my present?" She asked.  
"Yeah, I-"  
"Ooh! Did you like them?"  
"I didn't have a chance to try-"  
"GOOD!" She shouted, "You need to save room for breakfast!"  
"Right, that's-"  
Morgana thrust a plate piled high with pancakes at Xin's face. They smelled incredible. He began to thank her when she cried, "NEXT!" and Xin hastily complied, re-entering the dining area and finding his customary table. He took a seat next to Master Yi.  
"Xin." said Yi in greeting.  
"Yi." replied Xin.  
"The pancakes." he said, noting Xin's plate. "A wise decision." Yi had a plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, arranged in such a way that it resembled a face screaming in agony.  
"She didn't leave me a lot of choice. You know Morgana."  
Yi nodded slowly, biting off the end of a strip of bacon.  
Xin went to begin on his pancakes, but realized he'd forgotten silverware. He was about to rise and return to the kitchen when Yi hovered a fork in front of his face.  
"Thanks." said Xin.  
Yi nodded again, "My fork is yours."  
They ate in relative silence. Yi wasn't one to make conversation. He was more the type to talk at someone, rather than with someone. A preacher. Xin supposed to came with the wise samurai thing. As they ate, he noticed that Yi would take two bites every seventh time he brought his fork to his mouth. Xin couldn't tell is this was amusing to unnerving. He looked around the room and thought about how funny it was that the champions assembled here could be so cordial when they weren't fighting to the death.  
Yi rose suddenly, "Prepare yourself." he said.  
Xin looked at him, "What?"  
"You will counsel a troubled soul on this day of intimacy. Two hearts once intertwined, now severed by a chemical blade. One half approaches."  
Yi nodded as though anything he just said made sense, turned, and left. Xin had only a moment to reflect on the cryptic advice before he heard the rattling of metal armor approaching his table. A massive presence settled itself next to Xin.  
"Hey Morde."  
"Hey." replied Mordekaiser. His voice sounded distant.  
"...Everything alright?" he asked, already knowing the answer.  
"N-no." he said, and barely held back a sob, "Xin, have you seen Garen? I haven't seen him since that match, and he hasn't been in his room, and I was hoping he would apologize for yelling at me, but now I don't care, I just want to see him! You're his best friend, you have to know where he's been! Is he cheating on me? Please, tell me if he is!"  
Xin had put up a hand to quiet Mordekaiser roughly midway through his panicked rant, and when he saw it wasn't working, he spoke up.  
"Morde, slow down. I actually haven't seen him since the match, either."  
Mordekaiser made a sound that resembled stone cracking, and Xin guessed he was about to cry. The big sort of crying that silenced entire cafeterias and made all heads turn towards the source, which would probably be clinging tightly to Xin as it bawled for several minutes. Xin did not need that image attached to him forever. He reached up to put a hand on Mordekaiser's shoulder.  
"Morde, hold on. I'll ask around and find out where he went, alright? It's not like he left the league or anything, he's probably just been having a bad day. ...Two bad days. Just take it easy for a bit. Look, how about I give him a good ass-kicking for running off on you?"  
Mordekaiser sniffled and shook his head, "No, I'm the one who needs their ass kicked. This is my fault."  
Xin rolled his eyes. "No it isn't, Morde. You had nothing to do with this."  
"How could he do this to me on Valentine's day?"  
"It's just a case of bad timing. He still loves you, alright? He told me so himself after the match." That last part was a lie. A lie, but it worked.  
"Really?" said Morde, sounding cautiously hopeful.  
"Yeah, in fact, I'd wager the reason you haven't seen him today is because he's getting you a great big present."  
Morde sniffled again, "Maybe you're right. Thank you, Xin..." He gave Xin a hug, a bonecrushing hug that took the wind out of him and brought pancake up to the back of his throat. With that, he rose and left, his steps a little less shuffling. Xin felt happy that he could brighten up the big guy's day.

Xin finished the rest of his breakfast without interruption. He had just left the cafeteria when he heard a voice behind him.  
"Xin."  
He turned. Caitlyn was leaning against the wall next to the doorway.  
"Hey girl, how's life?" he asked, reflexively turning on the suave.  
"Busy." she replied. "Have you seen Garen?"  
"What, you're looking for him, too?"  
Caitlyn pushed herself off the wall and walked towards Xin. "Yes. We need to have a little talk."  
"Well, get in line."  
Caitlyn eyed Xin for a moment. "Look, you're his friend, so I feel like I should give you fair warning. It is my intention to bring him to justice. Don't get in my way."  
Xin's eyebrows raised, "Woah, what? Justice? For what, making Mordekaiser sad?"  
"As this is an ongoing case, I'm unable to relinquish the details pertaining to Garen's impending arrest. I'm simply asking that you refrain from aiding or abetting him in any way until after the investigation is closed."  
Xin balled his fists. He wasn't sure if he should be more upset that Caitlyn was accusing Garen of going against his code, which he ****ing would not thank you very much, *****, or that she believed that Xin himself would violate the code that strictly forbids Demacians from harboring criminals. Which Garen wasn't.  
"If you learn anything else that might help me track Garen down, I ask that you bring it to my attention. Thank you for your time." With that, Caitlyn turned and left, leaving Xin standing in the hall, fists balled, half-confused, half-shocked, and completely pissed. Xin knew Garen. He knew Garen would never take buffs, not even if he were drowning in an ocean of buffs with a number of open wounds, and the only life raft close by was made of syringes full of buffs, and also the air was buffs too. That's why he was going to find Garen, joke about how ridiculous the accusations were, and then the two of them were going to gank the **** out of Caitlyn for being a lying ****.

Xin set off towards Garen's chambers with new purpose.

Warwick was feeling pretty good today.

He'd struck a deal after his last encounter with Caitlyn. He would play bloodhound for the detective, and she would reward him accordingly. She also promised not to tell anyone that he enjoyed wearing a leash. Normally, anyone who learned that would also learn what it's like to be disemboweled, but Warwick learned long ago not to bite the hand that scratched him. Especially not with nails like hers. Recalling the feel of her well-manicured fingernails in his fur made him shiver with a secret delight, and then check his surroundings to make sure it stayed secret. He recalled another caveat of their agreement, too. He was not to tell anyone what was going on, and if they found out somehow, to feign ignorance. Failure to do so would mean Warwick might never see another belly rub. The very thought of it filled him with a sense of terrible dread, as though he had just learned that all the women and children in the world had been suddenly stricken mute, lost the ability to cry, and were made of tofu.

As Warwick's thoughts drifted from his perverse pleasures to wanton slaughter, he became aware of a gentle rumbling in his gut. Meal time. _Today might not be taco day_ , he thought, _but as long as I can pretend it's alive I'll be alright._ He licked his chops in anticipation and set off towards the cafeteria. As he walked, he became so caught up in a daydream involving a nude Caitlyn, a flea comb, and a platter of wailing infants that he did not notice the strange scent on the air, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps from behind him, or the heavy blackjack that collided with the back of his head and sent his world into darkness.

When he awoke, he felt a familiar sensation. Bands of soft fabric held his arms and legs fast again a cold stone wall. He glanced around and realized he was in some sort of dungeon. The floor, walls and ceiling were made entirely of cobblestone, and the room was lined with all manner of iron shackles and cages. He looked down at his arm. His shackles were apparently made of leather and silk. Sexy. Warwick sighed, imagined Caitlyn had a new contract to negotiate, and wondered why she couldn't just ask instead of applying this weird knock-out bondage thing she seemed to have going. He sniffed the air, but noticed her scent was absent. There was a different scent now, a less feminine scent coupled with a much more pungent gunpowder. He was beginning to understand his situation when he heard footsteps approach behind a heavy wooden door. The door creaked open slowly, and in stepped Miss Fortune, stupid hat and all. Warwick prepared to growl a threat when he noticed that his muzzle had been tied closed with a pink silk ribbon. She grinned at him as she shut the door.  
"Hello, puppy."  
Warwick offered a muffled response which was probably unflattering.  
Miss Fortune clicked her tongue and mock-pouted as she walked towards him.  
"What's the matter, little guy? All tied up?"  
Warwick squirmed.  
"I bet you're wondering what's going on. Well let me fill you in..."  
 _I'd like to fill_ you _in_ , Warwick thought, scowling.  
"I've noticed lately that my good friend Caitlyn has that glint in her eye again. You know the one, right? The one she gets when she's on someone's trail? Of course you do. Anyway, I was curious about this, since, after all, I'm the league's resident bounty hunter, am I not? A bounty hunter who really does not like it when some wannabe upstart busts into her tournament and starts chasing after HER perps." She jabbed Warwick's chest with her finger. He growled.  
"Right, that's what I said. So later I'm off doing something TOTALLY unrelated near her quarters when who should come knocking on her door but you?" Miss Fortune snaked an arm behind Warwick's neck and leaned on him, bringing her free hand forward to pat his stomach. He growled more loudly. "So I thought, 'how strange, I wonder what that's all about?' and that's how you ended up here. Now..." Miss Fortune detached herself from her wolfy prisoner and took hold of one end of the ribbon on Warwick's muzzle.  
"I'm gonna take this ribbon off, and you're gonna tell me what I want to know. Deal?"  
Warwick gave no response.  
"Great!" she said, excited. She tugged on the ribbon and it fell away, drifting slowly towards the ground.  
"**** you." grunted Warwick.  
"Now is that any way to treat your gracious host?"  
"I'm not telling you a god**** thing."  
"Oh, I get it. She has you under some kind of non-disclosure agreement, right?" Miss Fortune clicked her tongue again, "Guess I'm gonna have to get tough with you, then." At that she turned around and left the chamber, leaving Warwick to wonder what was in store for him. After a short while, Miss Fortune returned carrying a large, bloodstained wooden crate. She set it on the floor before him, allowing him a few moments to imagine the gruesome torture tools that were inside before grinning wildly and pulling off the lid, lifting a silver object from inside. It appeared to be a flat metal plate covered by a metal dome, and Warwick thought it resembled a dinner platter. He breathed in slowly to try and discover the contents, and he caught whiff of something.  
 _Oh no_ , he thought, starting to panic, _Oh please, please no. Anything but that!_  
Warwick squirmed in his bonds, and Miss Fortune's grin became one of wicked glee. She tugged the metal lid off the platter.  
Bacon. It was bacon.  
The ***** was going to use bacon.  
Warwick held his breath. One good sniff of that and it would be all over. Miss Fortune knew. Already, rivulets of saliva began to pour down from the corners of his mouth. Miss Fortune walked over to Warwick, holding the platter tantalizingly close to his face. He turned his head away and tried to breathe through his mouth,  
"Do you like bacon, puppy?" she teased, sliding a piece of it just below his nose. Gods above, the texture! It was so crispy! "It's one of my favorites, and I'm very good at making it. This batch here has a honey glaze, isn't that interesting?"  
Warwick was almost ready to cry. Yes it was interesting, you stupid ****! That was the most interesting thing you could do to straight bacon! **** you! **** you to hell for doing this to me!  
Warwick took a great gulp of air, and Miss Fortune seized the opportunity to slide the strip of bacon along his tongue.  
 _NO!_ Warwick screamed in his mind. But it was too late, the juice, the ****ing juice was there, it was there on his tongue ad he couldn't get it off, he couldn't get it off and sooner or later he was going to swallow and he was going to taste it and...  
Miss Fortune reached up her hand to gently stroke Warwick's furry neck.  
"Swallow it..." she said softly. "Swallow it, puppy..."  
Warwick couldn't help himself. He swallowed. He tasted it. It was so good he almost screamed. As the flavor reached his brain it caused him to lose control of his inhibitions. He devoured the strip of bacon near him mouth with such ferocity that Miss Fortune had to snap her hand back to keep her fingers. She lifted another piece to his mouth, and another, and another. Warwick was hers, now, and in seconds the platter was bare and he swore on his life to tell her everything, everything if she just gets him another serving of that bacon, that sweetest ambrosia. When Miss Fortune returned after what seemed like forever, carrying what must have been an entire pig's worth of the sacred treat, he told her. He told her everything between generously-proportioned servings, about Garen, about the buffs, about Caitlyn, about the leash thing, about the fact that he suspected Vladimir to actually be a woman, about his dream involving *** with the dragon on Summoner's Rift, about how he sometimes like to strip naked and run through forests while barking heavy metal songs, about how all this bacon was making him unusually sleepy, about how everything had started to fade...

Hours later, Warwick awoke in the middle of a hallway in a panic. Did that just happen? Was it all a dream? He licked his lips, and the delicious bacon residue told him that it _did_ happen, he _was_ just interrogated by bacon, and Caitlyn _was_ going to be pissed, and she was never going to scratch his ears the way only she could ever again, but the bacon, the bacon had been worth it, so worth it, and if Miss Fortune tried to tell Caitlyn that Warwick sold her out, then he was going to lie and say he didn't, because who was she going to believe, honorable Warwick, or that ***** she hated so much?

Warwick hoped, anyway.

Xin Zhao approached the heavy wooden door that barred entrance to Garen's chambers. He raised his fist and pounded on the door the way he always did, two knocks in the middle of the door and one near the top. It was his way of identifying himself since Garen usually didn't care for visitors. He waited. There was no response.  
"Yo ****," he called, "Open the door."  
Silence.  
He knocked again, harder. If Garen was in his room he clearly didn't want to be disturbed. **** that. Xin glanced up and down the long hallway and, sure he was alone, gave the door handle a firm tug. And then another. And then another. On the third he put all of his strength into the effort and wrested the door open, breaking the lock in the process. Garen's fault for not answering. He entered.  
The inside of Garen's room was the same as Xin had always remembered. Modest. For Garen, a bedroom was only for resting between battles. And occasionally nailing his boyfriend. For this he required little more than a bed, a place to keep his weapons and armor, a table, a rug, a fireplace, a fountain of blood... Wait, what? Xin arched an eyebrow at the new addition. A circular fountain in the middle of the room, built with black stone. A syrupy red ooze rested still in the basin, while a spire-like center aspired towards the ceiling. From small holes along the top, the ichor poured slowly down a pillar of expertly-carved stone skulls. Xin became acutely aware of a coppery tang on the air. He rolled his eyes. Mordekaiser must have talked him into installing that.  
Xin turned his attention to the fireplace. A dimly-glowing log on the metal grill hinted that it had been in use recently. He began to look for clues, and his eyes were drawn to the mantle. Along the top was the only decoration Garen's room had: Pictures. The leftmost was a picture of the king of Demacia, Jarvan Lightshield III. His commanding smile beamed out from behind the thin pane of glass, and a little scribbling in one corner read, "To my favorite badass." It was signed by Jarvan himself. Xin was slightly taken aback. He thought he was the king's favorite badass? Then he remembered. No, he was the king's favorite asskicker. There was a difference. The point was they were both his favorites, and they both loved their king. His son was a different story, however. Prince Jarvan IV. Stuck-up *******. Xin was glad he hadn't joined the League. ****. That would suck so hard.  
Xin looked at the next photo, and he smiled. It was him, standing next to Garen, the two of them with one boot each planted on the corpse of Baron Nashor, sharing a wicked high-five. They'd duoed that enormous ****, duoed like champions, and after Xin cleared up this whole stupid buffs thing they would do it again, and with the Baron's totally legal buff they would charge into the league hall and duo Caitlyn, ifyouknowwhatImean, because nobody accuses Garen of juicing, nobody.  
Xin's gaze travelled across the next couple of photos, all of which featured Mordekaiser. Garen and Mordekaiser holding one another and smiling, Garen and Mordekaiser sharing a cotton candy at a Valoran amusement park (Xin could see Corki's plane ride in the background), Mordekaiser holding a plush Yordle that Garen had won for him, Mordekaiser lying on a black-sheeted bed with most of his armor off, grinning suggestively outward...  
Xin decided it was time to stop looking at pictures. He travelled across the room to Garen's bed, and started checking the drawers for clues to Garen's whereabouts. He'd heard nothing regarding a game today, and if Garen wasn't in a game then he would be in his room, preparing for the next game. The fact that he was not here told Xin that he had ducked out to get some food, but if that was the case, why was his door locked? Garen never locked his door when he went for food. Nothing was wrong, of course, maybe he just forgot, or maybe he was at the bookstore? In any case, he found nothing in the drawers to signify that Garen was using buffs, and so he decided he'd check under the bed, and then head to the cafeteria where Garen obviously was, and they would have some pizza and then go kick some ass.  
Xin crouched and lean forward to look under the bed. He saw nothing, and so he moved to stand, but as he did, a brief glint of light caught his eye. He reached under the bed and wrapped his fingers around something cylindrical. Pulling it out he saw it was hollow and made of glass, with one end terminating in a thin metal needle.

Xin dropped the object and stood. Keep calm, Xin. It was obviously for... something that wasn't buffs. As he rose, he felt something press against the back of his head. Something circular and metal, and very much like the barrel of a flintlock pistol. Xin put his hands up, slowly.  
"Hello, Xin." said Miss Fortune. "Did you get my present?" He could tell she was smiling her usual smile.  
"Yeah," replied Xin. Those chocolates had been **** good. "How did you sneak up on me wearing heels?"  
"Honey," she said, "It takes practice. Anyway, I'm looking for Garen. Have you seen him?"  
"Join the club." Xin put his hands down as Miss Fortune dropped the gun from his head. He turned to face her. "What do you need him for?"  
"Just to talk," she said. She was a pretty good liar.  
"Oh yeah? About what?"  
"Oh, you know, builds, booty, boys..." She smiled sweetly, her winning smile.  
Xin restrained himself from blurting, "Buffs?" and instead he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I came over to ask if he had any extra deodorant."  
"You don't need to wear deodorant, Xin. I like the way you smell." She leaned in slightly. God**** did he want to **** her right now.  
"You're the only one. Anyway, he's not here. And his lock is broken for some reason."  
"I noticed that," she said. 'I thought you did it."  
"The Demacian code forbids breaking open locks." Like **** it did. It didn't say **** about locks.  
Miss Fortune's eyes lit up, "Do you think there might be a thief about? Thieves catch a pretty good bounty."  
"Could be. It doesn't look like anything was taken, though."  
Miss Fortune didn't seem to be listening, "By the way, is that a fountain of blood?"  
"Uh, yeah, it is. Listen, I'm gonna wait around to see if Garen shows up. Did you wanna chill 'till he gets back?"  
Miss Fortune shook her head. She knew Garen wouldn't be back this way for a long time, and her intuition told her Xin was hiding something, but she couldn't rightly hang around without alerting him to her intent, and so she turned, shaking her head,  
"Sorry hon, gotta run. Next time though, I promise." She winked at him over her shoulder and strutted out of the room, wiggling her rear all the way.  
Xin was sorry to see her go, but it confirmed his suspicions. Miss Fortune knew about the accusations, too. But how? His mind raced with images of Miss Fortune interrogating Caitlyn. Great. Now he had two gunwomen after his friend, AND he had an erection. He knelt awkwardly to pick up the syringe and tucked it into his pack, then walked into Garen's bathroom. He emerged feeling refreshed, no longer distracted.

It was time to find Garen.

 _Not sure how I didn't think of this sooner._ Xin said to himself as he made his way down yet another stone corridor, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of this sooner. In moments he had made it to the game room, and he pushed open the door to reveal a few scattered packs of champions all tending to their own games. Off in the corner, playing by himself, was the figure Xin was looking for.

As Xin approached, Twisted Fate looked up, eyeing him under the brim of his hat. He grinned."Game of cards?"  
Xin shook his head, "No thanks." He, like everyone else in the league, knew better than to gamble with Fate.  
Twisted Fate's grin vanished, as did his cards into his sleeve. "I see. Well, then I don't believe we have any business."  
"We do, actually. I'm looking for-"  
"Garen." said Fate, cutting him off. "You and everyone else."  
"Just how many people are looking for him?" Xin asked. The cards flashed in Fate's hands once more.  
"Well, I reckon that information could be earned, seeing as how I don't have any reason to help you anyway." his grin returned with the cards, the kind of grin that bars a secret behind it. "Whaddya say?"  
"I'm not a card player." said Xin.  
"Even better."  
"Just do me a solid, just this once. I'll owe you one."  
"That," said Fate, shuffling his deck, "is not how I operate."  
Xin balled his fists. Nobody ever won card games against Fate, which is why he spent every other day in the game room alone, looking forward to the days when a new league hopeful would stumble upon the chamber while looking for the lavatory and get talked into a game. Then another. And then another. Then they would be on their way, and Fate would have a brand new pair of boots.  
"Alright, how about we make a deal?"  
Fate regarded Xin with the very definition of boredom.  
"You show me where Garen is, and I'll play one game with you."  
Fate chuckled and shook his head, "You've got it in the wrong order, friend."  
"I'm not going to try and win the information from you. Everyone in here knows you're a card sharp. I bet you haven't actually played a game in months."  
Fate's nostril's flared, "Mr. Zhao, I don't care for counterfactual insinuations."  
"Uh huh." said Xin, then, turning to the other gamers, "Hey guys, does Fate cheat at cards?"  
The others droned a disinterested affirmation in unison.  
Xin turned back to Fate, who was now grimacing.  
"Alright, I may have had one or two games where I had a slight advantage over my opponents, but that doesn't mean I-"  
Xin began to turn, "Well, I'm wasting my time here."  
"Wait!" Fate said immediately. Xin turned back to face him. "I... I can't."  
"You can't?"  
"I'm not... allowed to use Destiny outside of approved league battleground, alright?"  
"When were you going to tell me this?"  
"I, er, I wasn't."  
Xin advanced on the gambler, who threw up his hands defensively. "So you were going to bleed me dry, knowing you couldn't lose?"  
Fate bit his lip, "You don't understand! ...Look, you were right. I haven't played anything but solitaire for three months. I'm dying here! I just needed one game to get me on my feet again."  
"Okay, how about this. Go ahead and use it, show me where Garen is hiding, and I'll pull some strings so the council doesn't come down on your ass for doing so. Deal?"  
Fate sighed. "It's not the council who's stopping me."  
"What? What is it, then?"  
Fate turned his gaze away from Xin and looked at the floor.  
"Fate, what did you do?"  
Fate pursed his lips, "I... made some, uh... questionable moral decisions with my abilities."  
"Questionable moral... What the hell did you do?"  
Fate went silent.  
"What he means is," said Jax from behind Xin, whose attention was focused on a game of Battleship versus Shaco, "He was spying on Katarina in the shower, and when she found out she broke both of his arms ."  
Fate snarled, "Who ****ing told you that?"  
"Common knowledge." said Jax. "Everyone knows what a god**** creeper you are."  
Xin turned back to Fate, somewhat revolted and just the slightest bit envious.  
Fate was scowling at Jax, but felt the hot stare of Xin through his wide-brimmed hat.  
"Okay, let's try again. Show me where Garen is and I'll not only agree to play a doomed game against you, I'll make sure your arms stay intact."  
Fate took a deep breath. After a long moment contemplating his options, he reluctantly agreed. He held out a hand to Xin. "Take my hand. It'll let you see what I see."  
Xin took Fate's outstretched hand.  
"Close your eyes."  
Xin acquiesced, and for a moment he was surrounded by nothing but blackness and the sound of various boardgames being played. Then, with a flash the world appeared and fell away beneath him until he was floating dozens of feet above the room, which he could see into as if there was no ceiling to it. Looking around he realized he had vision of the league hall's entirety, including the surrounding lands. All through the hall he could see various other champions going about their daily routines, oblivious to their observers. All of them had a curious sunburst burning in the air high above them, and a few of the players in the gameroom looked up to give the odd symbol a hateful scowl.  
 _We don't have a lot of time. Do you see them?_ Xin heard Twisted Fate's voice in his mind somewhere. Xin looked around, trying to find the telltale blue and gold of Garen's armor. He saw Heimerdinger teaching a group of bored-looking Ionians about nuclear physics, Corki putting the finishing touches on a wicked-looking gunboat that Xin was previously unaware he had owned, Udyr attemtping to master what looked like "Crab-stance," Southern Baptist Urgot preaching to an empty cathedral, Tryndamere and Ashe arguing furiously over what she would wear to a Demacian Ball, and... Well, now that's strange. In the distance Xin could see Evelynn's solitary sunburst. She appeared to be at Courageous Meadows, the league-sponsored orphanage.  
 _Zhao for ****'s sake hurry!_  
Xin felt his attention pulled towards a location back in the league hall. The women's showers. In use... with a livid, towel-clad Katarina storming out of them and making a slippery beeline towards the gameroom.  
Xin took one last desperate scan of the horizon. Then he saw it. Out in the distance, five sunbursts scattered about the countryside. One was stationary. The other four were headed towards...  
 _The Howling Marsh!_ Xin shouted wordlessly, _That's where he's going!_  
Xin knew it in his gut. One of those dots was Garen. One had to be Caitlyn... He couldn't account for the other three, however. He tried to focus, to get a better view of at least one, but he felt himself slipping, heading back towards the ground. He landed just time time to halt the ferocious charge of Katarina. Her hands lashed out to grab the terrified gambler.  
"Out of my way, Xin, this ****er just signed his own death warrant!" she shrieked.  
"Kat, hold it! I had him do it." said Xin. Katarina relented... slightly. "I was looking for Garen. This was the only way I could think of to find him."  
She stopped, composing herself, and bit her lip, looking slightly disappointed that she had come all this way without getting to kill someone. Her hand shot out suddenly, pointing a throwing knife at Fate.  
"Did you see anything?" Katarina asked through her teeth.  
Fate shook his head frantically.  
She turned to Xin and grinned slightly, "Did you?" she asked, with a flutter of her lashes.  
Xin shook his head, "We weren't spying on the showers, Kat."  
She glowered suddenly, "Good." Xin had apparently just saved both himself and Fate.  
Katarina left the room, and it became apparent to Xin just how hard everyone else in the room was trying to not pay attention. Rumor had it Katarina was working on a way to hit more than three people at a time with Death Lotus. Nobody wanted to verify it.  
Fate loosed a breath he had been holding for thirty seconds. "Well Mr. Zhao, what's your plan now?"  
Xin straightened up, "I'm headed to the marsh."  
"The Marsh? The Howling Marsh? Are you crazy?"  
"No? That's where Garen was. Weren't you watching?"  
Fate pulled his hat down over his eyes, "I, erm, no."  
Xin laughed, "God****, you really are a-"  
Fate held up a hand, "Look, we don't need to play that game if you promise not to tell Katarina about this, but you're gonna get your ass killed in that marsh. You know that, right?"  
Xin slid his hand into his pocket. "Tell you this, Fate." He withdraw his Commando sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on.  
"I wouldn't bet on it."

Xin Zhao stood in his chambers, pulling on his armored Commando gear. Survival knife? Check. This trip was going to take a lot of travel through the jungles of Valoran, and he wanted to be prepared. Rations? Check. Few people had ever made the journey before, and that mostly because so few ever needed to visit the marsh for any reason. Medical kit? Check. Or possibly because the only people in the world dumb enough to attempt the journey hadn't survived childhood. Xin shook that thought from his head as he hefted his enormous polearm. Badass Commando spear? Check and mate.

Xin wasn't stupid, of course. This venture was going to require allies, he knew. The only question left was, who could be brave or stupid enough to join him?

A sharp right kick, expertly blocked. A feint, accounted and compensated for. Two opposing fists met halfway to their destination, and for a moment Katarina, the Sinister Blade, and Akali, the Fist of Shadow, were at a stalemate. Then Katarina dropped into a vicious roundhouse, which Akali dodged with an expertly-timed backflip, putting her just out of range of Kat's sudden upward lunge. Akali had predicted this, being a badass, and she grabbed Katarina's forearm and using her own momentum against her hurled Katarina over her shoulder. She landed in a roll and was already poised to strike. Akali had already begun moving to intercept Katarina's next predicted attack, but Katarina hesitated, and Akali was thrown off. Using this split-second of vulnerability, Katarina dove into a roll and came up into Akali's abdomen. She looped her arms behind the ninja's legs and tripped her onto her back, then rolled on top of her, pinning her to the padded floor of the training room.  
Katarina barked an exhausted laugh. "I win."  
Akali turned her head with an apparent sneer. "The war is not yet over."  
Kat leaned forward and unclapsed Akali's mask, throwing it off to one side. "Of course not, but for now I have you right where I want you."  
Akali bit her lip, holding back a grin, "You won't...mmh get away with this." she threatened.  
Katarina brushed her fingers against the captive ninja's lips, leaning ever closer, closing her eyes, "I wouldn't count on it."  
Katarina's lips had only a moment to savor the warmth of Akali's when a sudden sound made the assassin bolt upright. Her dagger impacted in the wall near the entrance, next to a bored-looking Shen.  
"Oh, uhm. Shen. Hey." said a flustered, blushing Akali.  
"Hey." replied Shen impassively, sipping languidly from a bottle. "What's up." The bored, apathetic manner Shen had of speaking made the question sound like a statement.  
Akali's hands, which had just begun caressing Katarina's hips, dropped to her sides. "Nothing."  
"What do you want, Shen?" asked an impatient Katarina.  
Shen shrugged. "Eh."  
"...Could we get a little privacy, then?"  
Shen shrugged again, then held up a hand, fingers straightened upwards, and slammed his fist into his palm. A purplish glow began to surround his feet and grew ever brighter as he began to kiai. It was quiet at first, but as the glow grew brighter the sound grew louder, and after a few seconds he vanished from sight.  
Katarina watched the area until she was certain he was gone, and then turned back to the failing-to-struggle ninja she had pinned beneath her.  
"Now," she crooned, "Where were we?"  
Katarina lifted her hands to tug the shoulder straps of Akali's tunic free, and began to pry the material teasingly from the ninja's chest... when another sound at the doorway caused her to loose another threatening dagger into the wall.  
"Oh for ****'s sake, WHA- Oh. Xin. Hello." said Katarina, quickly composing herself.  
Xin Zhao stood in the doorway, resplendent in his finely-polished olive armor. His sunglasses his his eyes, but his eyebrows had almost met his hairline, and his jaw hung open slightly.  
"What," he asked, "am I just in time f-"  
"What do you want?" she snapped.  
"Oh. Uhhhm. Wait, I just had it... Right! I've found Garen... I think... and I need to go recover him."  
"Good for you." she said with a smile. Then, deadpanning, "Now leave."  
"Actually, I need someone to come with me. He's in the Howling Marsh, and-"  
"The Howling Marsh? Are you joking? And you want me, ME, to come with you?"  
"I never took you for a coward, Kat."  
"I'm not a coward!" Kat snarled. "I'm just not an idiot, either."  
"Fine." said Xin, and he turned his attention to Akali, "How about you?"  
"Akali studied the man a moment, then turned her attention to Katarina's ample bust. She flushed, "I'm fine where I am..."  
Xin licked his teeth thoughtfully, "You know, you could both come, actually. We could share a tent and-"  
Xin slammed the door just in time for it to intercept Katarina's third dagger.  
"Fine!" shouted Xin through the closed door. "But don't come crying to me when I have my best friend back and you don't get to come to the 'welcome back Garen' party!"  
He nodded with finality. The ultimatum had sounded far more imposing in his head. He promised himself he'd work on new ones with Garen as soon as he came back.

As Xin walked down the halls, looking for suckers, er, companions to join his mission, he began to think of what he would find useful in a travelling companion. His thoughts immediately drifted to Corki, who could simply fly over all of the hazardous terrain. But no, he thought, Corki's chopper only had room for one tiny yordle man. He'd need something that could fit three, no actually five, for he and Garen considered themselves as awesome as two men each. Who else could fly? Well, Anivia, but the last time Xin asked if he could ride her Doctor Shen had to treat his legs for severe frostbite. Well, he was certainly grounded. He knew that much. Who would be useful on a ground journey? Through the jungles, no less... Wait, of course! Xin broke into a sprint as the thought was still forming in his head. He burst through a doorway into a lush green garden bathed in radiant sunlight. His glasses easily blocked the glare as he scanned the courtyard. There, nestled upon a rock showered in golden sunlight slept the enormous form of a panther.  
 _****._ Xin thought. _She's asleep._  
Xin knew better than to never wake a sleeping cat. Or, as he thought suddenly, never be responsible for waking a sleeping cat. A plan came into view in his mind, and he ducked back into the hall to retrieve the very tool he would need.

Vibrant green flashed by as she raced through the steamy jungle labyrinth. With enormous force she vaulted onto a high branch and crept slowly to the very end. She stood statuesque in the shade and watched the ground with glowing golden eyes.  
Movement!  
She lunged, bouncing herself off a tree trunk and landing with incredible grace on a fallen log. She leapt backwards and twisted in the air to right herself. Her claws came out. And fell upon her prey like a thunderbolt. With a great swipe of her claws she tore open the struggling body on an enormous jungle boar, and out of it spilled great mounds of meat. Raw meats, prepared and processed meats, steak, fish, poultry, all soaked in luscious, creamy milk.  
Nidalee licked her chops hungrily, closed her eyes, and dove in face first.  
The shock of the creatures ice-cold innards hit her with tremendous force. She gasped, pulling the bitter chill and chunks of snow into her lungs and started coughing. After a moment of confusion, she opened her eyes. She was back in the courtyard in which she had fallen asleep, nestled upon the warm, alluring rock she had claimed as her bed.  
She shook her head, and snow slid off of her and melted instantly in the heat of the sun.  
She uttered a confused mewl and became aware of a piercing sound in her ears. Her eyes focused upon Xin Zhao standing before her, whistling as hard as he could, trying to appear idle. His back was slightly turned to her, but he was making it all too obvious, even to the sleeping, confused cat, that he was waiting to see if she had awoken. When she saw him, he beamed.  
"Nidalee! Hey! Freaky snowstorm, huh? Listen, I need to ask you a favor."  
Nidalee turned her golden eyes to the sky. It was the clearest blue she had ever seen. She looked at Xin again. He was rubbing moisture from his hand onto his pant leg, and as his hand fell away she saw that it was bright red as though he'd been holding something ice-cold for a good long while.  
She snarled, hackled raised.  
"Woah, woah! Hey! Calm down a second, I need help!"  
She lunged with a snarl, and Xin took off with Nidalee in hot pursuit.  
Xin slammed the heavy wooden door behind him, and sprinted down the hallway. Nidalee burst through the door and continued to give chase. As he ran, Xin knocked over various decorations in order to slow the furious feline, but she continued to gain ground on him.  
"Cut it out, Nid! I just need to talk!"  
"Nobody calls me Nid! Now come back here and let me kill you!"  
As Xin rounded a corner, his eyes fell upon his salvation.  
"Alistar!" he shouted. The minotaur turned, and as the spectacle registered in his mind he knew what he had to do. Xin flew past, and Alistar slammed his fists into the ground. Nidalee was flung into the air. Alistar took careful aim and slammed his head into her, launching the flailing cat out of a window.  
Xin fell to his knees, gasping. "Thanks, buddy."  
Alistar cracked his knuckles. The sound echoed through the hallway. "We're even, now."  
"Yeah." Xin agreed. "Say, how would you like to come with me to the Howling Marsh?"  
Alistar snorted and strode off down the hallway, hooves clicking on the ground.

Xin leaned against a wall and slumped down to catch his breath. Nidalee would probably be distracted before she came back and forget she was angry with him. Such was the way of cats. He was, however, now without a guide. He sighed and stood up, collecting his thoughts, and began to walk. Within seconds he was on his face.  
He brought one hand up to rub his aching jaw, and another to push himself off the ground. Looking back, he saw what had tripped him.  
"Sorry..." moaned Teemo.  
"Teemo." Xin said, sighing, "You need to stop that 'blending in' thing if you're gonna stand around hallways like that."  
Teemo sucked in a breath. "Yeah."  
"You alright?"  
"Not really." Xin knew he wasn't referring to being kicked in the head a few seconds ago. He knelt next to the sullen yordle.  
"What's up, cap'n?" Xin asked.  
Teemo closed his eyes. "Things, Xin. Life."  
"Ooh." he replied. "Deep stuff. Alright, what do you want to start?"  
"I don't." said Teemo.  
"You sure? It helps to talk about these things you know."  
"There are some things you don't talk about."  
"Fair enough. What would help you take your mind off it? Wait, I have an idea. You're a scout, right?"  
Teemo paused. "Sometimes I wonder, Xin."  
"Well, lemme put it this way. Can you guide someone from point A to point B?"  
Teemo shook his head. "I used to think so, Xin. I used to."  
Xin bit his lip. This was one ****ed-up yordle.  
"Well, I need to get to the Howling Marsh. Can you get me there?"  
Teemo looked up at Xin with melancholy practically leaking from his eyes. Actually, they were tears. Melancholic ones.  
"...Sorry, Teemo. I'll drop it." Xin turned.  
"Wait."  
Xin paused in half-step, looking at the yordle expectantly.  
"I... I can. I can take you there."  
"I don't want to force you to do anyth-"  
"Xin. I can take you there." Teemo insisted, regaining his composure.  
"Alright, man. You're the boss. I was thinking we'd need three."  
"Three. Good number for a..." he sniffled, "a squad."  
"Maybe five..." Xin mused.  
"NO!" shrieked the yordle, startling Xin. "Please, not... not five... Gods above..."  
Xin watched Teemo for a good long while as the yordle stared at the floor, small tears spilling from his eyes and staining his fur with dampness.  
"...Three." confirmed Xin, "Gotcha."

The tall, powerful Demacian strode in tandem with the diminutive yordle down a long stone corridor. As they walked they spoke of the journey yet to come, the dangers they might face, and who they could convince to come with them. Captain Teemo would often pause in the middle of a conversation to place a large, colorful mushroom on the ground. Xin assumed it was because people didn't hate him enough as it was, or perhaps he had simply grown so accustomed to placing them that it was second nature to him now. Xin found himself wondering just where these mushrooms were coming from, since Teemo never seemed to be carrying more than three... nor could he, given their size.  
"Hey, Teemo." said Xin, watching the yordle assemble yet another explosive mushroom, "What do you fill those things with, anyway?"  
Teemo didn't take his eyes off the device. "Junta poison. It's a potent neurotoxin when prepared correctly."  
"Junta poison? Isn't that stuff really rare? How do you have so much of it?"  
Teemo carefully checked the integrity of the mushroom trap. He couldn't afford a leak. "It's rare because I'm using it all." he said simply.  
"Eh, oh. Well why do they explode?"  
Teemo stood the mushroom upright with extreme care, like a mother trying to teach her infant child to stand. "The chemicals present in these mushrooms react violently to Junta poison. I hollow out the center and line it with wax, and when someone steps on it, the chemicals mix and detonate, instantly disseminating the Junta toxin into the air."  
Xin nodded, impressed. "That's pretty brilliant, Teemo. Who taught you how to..." Xin watched the yordle's expression darken as he spoke the question, and so he stopped. "Nevermind. Sorry."  
Teemo took a deep breath. "My old squad leader."  
Xin simply nodded, and decided to change the subject. "So, we've got me, and we've got you... I think we need a tank, right?"  
"A tank would be ideal. We could also use support, if you're not afraid of pain."  
"We're well-acquainted." said Xin, and as they continued their aimless sojourn, they spoke of potential allies.

The two stopped as they came upon Shen, who was leaning against a wall and staring out a window.  
"Hey, Shen!" called Xin, "You're just the man we're looking for!"  
Shen blinked slowly and turned his attention to the Demacian. "What's up, Xin." he said in a near-monotone.  
"Teemo and I were about to take a field trip, and we need a tank." Xin smiled widely and indicated his yordle companion.  
"You're queueing for threes, then?" he asked, managing just enough inflection that it actually sounded like a question.  
"Oh no, nothing like that. We're going on a walk. Visiting the countryside, you know."  
"You need a tank to go on a walk?"  
"Well, we're headed to the..." Xin hesitated, knowing the usual reaction to revealing his destination, "...Howling Marsh. I hear there's gems and stuff." he added, hopeful.  
"That's a dangerous trip, Xin." Shen states matter-of-factly.  
"Right, that's why we need the best tank there is. What do you say?"  
"Nope. Nobody comes back from the marsh, you know."  
"Aww, come on, dude. Don't let fear cloud your judgment!" he said, hoping the rouse the ninja to action.  
Shen shook his head. "Nothing clouds my judgment, Xin. I am free of emotion, I do not feel fear, and I'm not swayed by words."  
Xin sighed dramatically. "I figured. I knew we shouldn't have asked a smart tank, right Teemo?"  
"That includes flattery, Xin." said Shen.  
"Ah, ****. Well, know anyone who would be interested?"  
Shen shook his head.  
"Right, well, see you around, I guess."  
Shen gave the two a modest wave as they left, and Xin grumbled to himself about finding tanks being the hardest part of everything.

The two continued their journey wordlessly, with Teemo laying another dozen mushroom traps in various locations. Xin was about to ask why he was placing so many when a shadow crossed his path. The two looked up in unison at an enormous creature covered in bright red chitinous plating, its enormous green eyes bearing down on them with a monstrous hunger. Its huge, yellow fangs glistened in the dim light of the hallway as it flexed its jaws in anticipation of its next meal.  
"Hey Cho." said Xin casually.  
"DINNER AND DESSERT, DELIVERED. HOW THOUGHTFUL." it screeched horribly. Teemo covered his ears, wincing.  
"Uh. Not quite." said Xin. "Hey, you're a tank! You want to do us a favor?"  
"NOOO!" it roared, "I WANT YOU TO SUFFER."  
"Come on, Cho. You'd really be helping us out."  
The creature moved its head in a gesture that suggested it was rolling its solid green eyes, "WHAT IS IT?"  
"Teemo and I were just heading to the Howling Marsh to rescue Garen. We need a third. Interested?"  
The Terror of the Void looked thoughtful for a moment. "FEED ME THE YORDLE AND I SHALL ACCOMPANY YOU, XIN ZHAO."  
Teemo stepped closer to Xin and wrapped an arm around his leg.  
"I can't do that, Cho. He's our guide. And, you know, friend."  
"HUMANS PLACE TOO MUCH STOCK IN FRIENDSHIPS."  
"Just think of all the rare and exotic creatures you could eat on the trip." suggested Xin.  
Cho'goth shook its enormous head, "I AM NOT SPURRED BY PROMISES OF FOOD, ONLY FOOD."  
"Okay, how about this?" Xin slipped his hand into a pouch on his belt and withdrew a boxed ration. Cho'gath regarded him in a way that implied Xin had to have been kidding.  
"Okay, fine." he said, placing the ration back in his pouch, "Teemo, do you have anything?"  
Teemo plucked a rather plump-looking mushroom from his backpack, "I haven't prepared this one, yet. It's... edible. Sorta."  
Cho'gath screeched its disapproval and stomped the ground. The duo knew what was coming, and dove out of the way just in time to avoid being impaled on the spikes that shot up from below where they were standing.  
"Woah, Cho! Do not make me get Three-Talon on your ass." Xin threatened, bringing his spear to bear.  
"I HATE THOSE MUSHROOMS AND I HATE THAT YORDLE. IF YOU FED HIM TO ME YOU WOULD BE DOING EVERYONE A FAVOR!"  
"Yeah, well, shut up." said Xin. It was all he could think of to say now that he was in combat mode.  
"HE LOOKS SO APPETIZING... I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY, YOU KNOW. " said Cho, but Xin could tell from Cho'gath's size that it wasn't entirely true.  
"You're not getting Teemo. Now either you help us or you don't." Xin crossed his arms.  
Cho'gath grunted and stormed off down the hallway, ostensibly in search of something to tide him over until he could remember where the cafeteria was.

The two continued their search. They found Blitzcrank in Heimerdinger's garage undergoing structural renovations. The golem regretfully informed them that its upgrades wouldn't be finished in time to help them, and that its operational efficiency dropped dangerously in humid jungle climates, and that its predicted operative capabilities in the Howling Marsh would be 0%, because it would be dead, in fact they would all be dead, and that's only if they are lucky because Xin, in the marsh exist states worse than death and more gruesome than the most horrible tortures imaginable, and at that point a technician had to run over and manually power the golem down because even thinking about the Marsh caused Blitzcrank's central processor to malfunction, but the technician helpfully guided the pair onto the roof, where there sat the lonely statue-like figure of Galio, who was also incredibly unwilling to join them on this trip, because the gargoyle knew that it could not protect them in the swamp, and it could never let another of its wards be destroyed, it simply couldn't take it, and it was very sorry, and the two went back into the hall because it was beginning to rain, and inside the building they were similarly denied by Malphite, Maokai, Gragas and even Poppy, who wasn't really a tank, but whatever, she had a shield, so she would have done.

Xin Zhao and Teemo walked on, visibly deflated by their many rejections. Xin was just beginning to think he would have to make this suicidal trip with just two people when Teemo plopped down another mushroom trap and Xin finally snapped.  
"Teemo for ****'s sake, what is with the ****ing mushrooms?"  
Teemo was to busy looking over his shoulder to react to Xin's sudden outburst. "You can't feel it, Xin?"  
"Feel what?"  
"Someone is following us." Teemo said it quietly, looking forward.  
Xin knew, now. Teemo was planting those mushrooms to slow their pursuer.  
"When were you going to tell me?"  
"They should have been dead by now. They've hit every trap I put down."  
Xin straightened, "Well, I have an idea. Follow me." With that he broke into a sprint, and Teemo followed. Xin could hear it, now. What he thought before was just their footsteps echoing off the walls was actually a third set of footsteps coming from far behind them. Xin navigated his way towards a long hallway that he knew would force their follower to expose itself or risk losing its quarry. They made it to the hall in short order and when they were halfway down it he stopped, and Teemo skidded to a halt, bumping into the Demacian's leg. Xin waited. He heard the footsteps. They rounded the corner behind Xin and Teemo, and stopped. Xin hesitated, and then turned.  
The enormous purple form of Dr. Mundo stared at the pair intently. Xin could see that Mundo was crouching slightly, and he appeared to be hiding behind a small potted plant that barely came up to his knees.  
"What do you want?" Xin said. Mundo didn't move.  
"What do you want, Mundo?" said Xin again, and he thought he heard Mundo gasp. "We can see you. Easily."  
Dr. Mundo righted himself and stepped out from behind the plant dramatically, "Very impressive, Zhao! Mundo not easily impressed."  
Xin arched a brow, then nodded. "Uhm, thanks. Were you the one who was following us?"  
"Mundo affirm Xin's suspicions. Mundo was following Xin and Teemo."  
"Why?"  
"Mundo hear Xin speaking of epic journey. Mundo wish to accompany you."  
"Wait, you _want_ to come with us?" Xin said, clearly suspicious.  
"If not want Mundo's mad jungle skills..." Mundo turned, threatening to leave.  
"I didn't say that. You do know we're heading to the Howling Marsh, right?"  
"Mundo not scared of stinky bog no matter how loud it screams. Mundo want to brave elements, make danger Mundo's bee-yotch. Mundo love epic journeys."  
Xin grinned, "Well hey, that's great! What do you think, Teemo?"  
"Fine by me, so long as this isn't some ploy to get us away from the Institute and then murder us."  
Mundo laughed, far harder than Xin or Teemo were comfortable with.  
"Mundo love funny rat! No no, if Mundo wanted you dead, Mundo would kill now. So, nothing to fear from Mundo."  
Teemo nodded, his fears clearly unassuaged.  
"Alright then, Mundo, you've got the job. We want to leave immediately, since time is short. Are you ready?"  
Dr. Mundo shook his head, "No, Mundo go suit up! You meet Mundo on front steps in five minutes. Then we go."  
Dr. Mundo turned and bolted down the hallway before Xin could respond.  
"Alright, Teemo. Looks like we got our third. You ready?"  
Teemo nodded, filled with a resolve that Xin hadn't seen before. Then they walked together towards the front entrance of the Institute to wait for their companion.

Exactly five minutes after Xin and Teemo stepped out onto the Institute of War's front steps, Dr. Mundo appeared. He was wearing a khaki vest, brown shorts and boots with knee-high socks, and a pith helmet, and sunglasses. He held a rusted machete in one hand and an antique flintlock rifle in the other.  
"Nice outfit, Mundo." complimented Xin.  
"Safari Mundo!" Mundo shouted a little too proudly.  
"Oh god, you're taking Mundo?" asked a voice behind Xin. He turned to see Katarina sitting on the ledge next to the stairway, leering at him.  
"You could have come with us, Kat, but it's too late now." said Xin, clicking his tongue.  
"As. If. I'm not interested in throwing my life away like that. And Xin, I don't want you to, either. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"  
"I have to do this, Kat. For Garen."  
She sighed. "Xin, really. If he's in the marsh then he's already dead. Sorry to say it, but it's his fault for going. All you, Teemo, and Grape Ape here are going to find is an identical fate." A hint of sorrow crossed Katarina's face as she spoke, but she was clearly only going to miss Xin.  
For a moment both she and Xin were silent, looking into each other's eyes. It hurt Xin to deny her, but his friendship with Garen compelled him to go.  
Katarina smiled faintly, "Xin, come back inside. Let's get some ice cream or something."  
Mundo stepped towards Katarina, whose nose wrinkled with revulsion at his approach.  
"Firecrotch not ruin epic journey with feminine charms!" declared Mundo.  
"Nobody cares if you get killed Mundo, but I'm not letting Xin do something so idiotic." snapped Katarina.  
"Wacky adventure take precedence over heartwrenching romance!" roared Mundo, and before Xin could stop him Mundo dropped his machete and gave Katarina a hearty shove off the ledge she was seated upon and into a fifty-foot freefall.  
"Kat!" Xin shouted, "Mundo, what the f-"  
A flash of purple smoke appeared next to Xin, and Katarina stood with one foot planted on top of Teemo's helmet, pushing it down over the struggling yordle's eyes. She looked quite upset.  
"If you ever do something like that again, Mundo, I'm going to-  
"Mundo think bighair need harder shove!"  
Xin threw himself between the two holding his arms out to keep them from drawing any closer to one another, "Hey, cool it! We're all friends here."  
"No," said Katarina, "We're not. But you know what? I don't care anymore. Go ahead and get yourself killed. Just remember, I tried to help you."  
Xin sighed, "Look, Kat..."  
But she had left, slamming the heavy wooden door of the hall's entrance behind her. Xin watched the door for a moment, hoping she might come back out. Part of him wanted to follow her, but the other part was already committed to his task.  
"Alright." said Xin finally, "Let's get moving."  
Mundo pumped a fist in the air, "Mundo approve of Xin's judgment! Chose bro before ho! Mundo declare Xin team leader, effective immediately."  
Xin grimaced as he and his two companions started down the stairway towards the road. This was going to be a long trip.

It was a bright and sunny day, the kind of day it always is when you're me, Renekton. I was lying there on the sand next to the huge river that was named after me, soaking up all the awesome sunlight. After a few hours of just chillaxin' I woke up and looked up at the sun. I could see the sun god Notra and he saluted me in respect and I waved at him. He told me once that I was the only reason he even bothered to get up in the morning. That's pretty cool to hear from a god and all. Anyway I was just realizing how hungry I was when this pig comes along and just straight up commits suicide just so I'd have something to eat. I said a righteous prayer for the noble pig and had some wicked bacon and decided it was time to go do my thing.

So anyway I got up and started walking when this sexy-ass croc chick runs up. She was so beautiful, and I could tell she was a chick because she was slimmer than me (but then again my muscles are ****in' HUGE) and she had these beautiful teeth, and her stripes were really sexy. I looked into her beautiful eyes and I could see they were tinged with sadness, but naturally she looked happier when she saw me. She told me how her village of beautiful naked croc chicks was under attack, and they needed me to save them. I held her in my arms to comfort her and she shivered because my touch is totally pleasing to women. I told her that I would save her village and she fainted from gratitude and also stress. So I laid her down gently on the sand and called to all the animals in the area that she was not to be harmed, and all these big scary animals gathered around to protect her until she woke up.

Using my psychic powers I gleaned the location of her village (gently) from her brain, and made sure she was having a bomb-ass dream involving me. Her village was three days' travel to the east but I made the trip in seven minutes, even stopping along the way to help an old man fix the tire on his chariot.

I got to the city and saw that it was on fire, and as I walked up all the flames seemed to back down 'cause they didn't want anything to do with this. Still some ******* flames were raging inside the local orphanage so I went in there and saved all the children with one trip. Then all the naked croc chicks who were in hiding ran out to thank me for saving them and they had just started to line up to make love to me when I realized who was behind this attack. "NASUS!" I yelled, and sure enough that ****in' ***** came out from behind a building holding a torch. "R-R-R-R-Renekton!" he stammered like a small frightened dog, because that's what he is, "What are you doing here?"

I put on my sunglasses and pointed at him like a badass and delivered a one-liner so awesome and deft that he was literally knocked on his ass by the force of it. Then he ran off crying and wetting himself.

Anyway I was just about to help the croc chicks rebuild their village when i heard a voice behind me. It was this sexy-ass ninja who came out of nowhere, and I was like "I saw you coming a mile away" and she was totally impressed. "Great Renekton" she said, prostrating herself in total supplication, "I request, no I BEG of you to join our league of badasses and show the world how wicked sick you are." She stood up and I realized that she must have been stung or something because her chest was really badly swollen. She was like "No, Renekton, these are breasts, I am a human" and she bared them to demonstrate. I marveled at their beauty and was like "holy ****, can I touch them?" and she said yes, in fact she was honored to let me do so, and so I gave them a righteous squeeze and asked if there were more breasts where she came from, and she said yes, and some were even bigger than hers, but she seemed sad that she didn't have the biggest so I told her it was alright, that hers were really awesome anyway, and she was so pleased by the compliment that she almost orgasmed.

So I looked up at the sky and told everyone that I was leaving, and they were so sad to see me go but they knew I would bring them even more glory. I looked down at the ninja girl and realized that we were in a big stone chamber, and I was like "woah how did you do that?" and she said "I didn't do it, you did" and I was like 'oh right" because I forgot I had that power.

So anyway I turned around and there were these huge stone doors behind me, and I walked up and they swung open as if they were afraid to block my way. As I walked into the room I saw that there was like this huge panel of old dudes in robes there, and as they saw me they all fell to their knees. Some wept, some reached out to me, as if to touch my magnificence, but they knew that if they drew any closer they would be incinerated by my radiant glory. Then the head old dude removed his hat and stepped forward and he said he would be honored if I would accept his position as the head of the league of legends. I was tempted, but I knew my place was on the battlefield and so I politely declined, and he seemed kinda broken up about it but I agreed to wear his hat, and that made him happy.

Suddenly I heard a noise behind me and I turned. A motorcycle pulled up, driven by the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. I wept golden tears as I looked upon her splendor. It was the first time in my entire life that I had ever cried.

I strode through the field of wildflowers that had sprung up where my tears had met the stone floor and she slid off the seat and into the sidecar. I mounted the cycle and the engine purred happily like it was glad to have me riding it. I looked at the girl and she smiled this beautiful smile and as I revved the engine and took off down the hall I knew I was in love. As we headed to the giant palace that I knew they had prepared for me I made out with the girl like ten times. She dropped me off at my palace and I was like, "I'm Renekton, what's your name?" She smiled that awesome smile and said "Ezreal." It was so beautiful, truly the name of an angel.

She winked at me and powered off into the most perfect sunset I had ever seen, and I went into my palace where a harem of sexy croc girls, in fact the same ones I had saved from the village earlier, totally pampered me and filed my talons and stuff and fed me grapes while I reclined on a huge ornate dais and prepared for my first match which I would undoubtedly win.

The end.


End file.
